One Last
by Bremol
Summary: Just a wee bit of Violet and her Russian Prince and what might happen. Series/Season 5 spoilers.


**A/N: Ever since the seemingly throw away line (****_"...Including the will to live...")_**** uttered by Irina in the scene at the Dower House just before she went up to bed, the line has floated about in my head, leading to this.**

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><p>She stared out the window at the falling snow, her heart aching as it had since the day she'd sent the Prince and Princess on their way to Paris. She'd been unbearably rude to Isobel of late, as if they'd gone back in time to when they had no relationship at all. She had seen the look in Isobel's eyes, the pain she'd caused, but she continued to push her away even though she knew that her cousin and friend was dealing with her own problems.<p>

Violet snarled her nose at that.

If only the stubborn Scottish doctor had fought for the woman!

She knew that Isobel had cared for Dickie Merton, but her heart belonged to one man. One Scottish man. Why she kept denying the fact, Violet didn't know.

Nor did she care now.

What did it matter?

Love only ever hurt.

What was the use?

She and Isobel could just be miserable together.

Then she let her head bump against the cool window pane.

One couldn't be miserable with someone if said someone was never around because they were constantly turned away.

Hearing Denker's light tap at her door, Violet straightened and turned. "Come," she called as she waited to see what her ridiculous servants had been arguing about now.

"Pardon, My Lady, but you have a visitor." Denker's eyes fairly sparked as she stared at her employer.

"Denker, I thought I told you that I don't wish to see anyone."

"Yes, My Lady, you did, but I think you'll wish to see this person." Denker backed from the room to be replaced by someone Violet thought had been lost to her only a month before.

"Igor?" she whispered, sure that her troubled mind had conjured him from her memories.

Igor heard the door close behind him but his gaze never left the confused blue eyes staring at him. "It is I."

"But you're in Paris." Violet murmured, her heart pounding in her chest.

Igor reached out, his hand gently caressing her cheek. "I am here."

"I don't understand. Why would Irina come back? She hates me, hates England."

"There is no Irina. I am free."

Violet shook her head and scoffed. "She would never divorce you. She knows you would come straight to me and she would never let either of us have that."

"Think back to our dinner here, on the conversation just before she went to bed." Igor whispered to jog her memory, his hand still caressing her face.

Violet closed her eyes, letting her face rest against the warm palm of his hand as her mind went back. Realizing what he was trying to tell her, she opened her eyes and stared at him. "She was speaking of herself? Why wait until Paris?"

"She thought to keep me from coming back to you. No funds to return, you see."

Violet moved closer to the man she'd never thought to see again and reached out to touch his face. "What did you do?"

"What I had to." Pulling her close, their bodies touching, Igor pressed a kiss to her ear. "She kept us apart while she was alive, her death has given us the freedom to be together."

"Igor, it is not so simple."

"Is it not? I am free. You are free. Who have we to hurt now?"

"My family, Igor. They do not know about," she shook her head.

"Your Isobel does, does she not? Is she not family?"

"Yes, she does and is, but my children have no idea that their mother nearly abandoned them."

Igor pulled away and shook his head. "You are worried about what society will say if the Dowager Countess of Grantham becomes involved with a destitute Russian."

"Igor, no." Violet sighed as she moved closer to him. "No. I am too old to care. It really is my children that I am worried about."

"Then we shall keep this hidden as we did in the past." Igor pulled her into his arms, one hand resting on her waist, the other moving up to finger the braid over her shoulder.

"Denker." Violet whispered.

"Is the one that brought me up to your room."

Violet nodded to concede his point. Her lady's maid was in her debt after the broth debacle – she could be trusted to keep their secret. "Spratt," she murmured.

"I believe can be distracted by your maid." Igor whispered the words against her neck, his hands now resting on her hips.

Violet felt herself falling into the same honey trap as she had fifty years ago. His voice was mesmerizing, his eyes hypnotic, two weapons he had that could break through every barrier she'd built around herself. His hands and lips were weapons too, she thought, as his lips found hers while his hands began to wander, the touch of his thumbs against the sides of her breasts causing her to shiver. This man could evoke in her feelings and sensations she'd thought were long since past. Her body was old, but it would seem it hadn't forgotten the fire of a lover's touch.

"Igor," she hissed when he gently nipped at her collar bone.

"My Violet," he murmured. "We will be together now. Always."

InV

Denker opened the door to Violet's room quietly, smiling at the sight that greeted her in the dim early morning light. She'd known the man was what her employer needed to lift her spirits, and she'd been sure that she would find him still here come the morn.

She'd been right.

She was thankful today was Spratt's day off, less chance of him discovering the Lady and her lover. Denker rolled her eyes at the thought then she covered her mouth to hide the chuckle that threatened.

Maybe the blasted man's head would finally pop!

Backing out of the room as quietly as she'd entered, Denker softly closed the door then made her way back downstairs. Her task now was to sneak an extra cup and a few extra pieces of toast for the Prince's breakfast without the cook noticing.

It was a good thing she was so very good at sneaking.

Now she just had to come up with a plan to continue these visits without causing her Ladyship any embarrassment.

Or maybe she should just work with the woman to set up meetings somewhere other than the Dower House.

Spratt was getting to be too suspicious now days.

This Russian prince was one last chance for the lady of the house to be happy, and after what she'd done with the broth to stave off Spratt's bragging about, Denker decided she would do whatever it took to see that things went favorably for the two lovers.


End file.
